


The Blues Sister

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-06-01
Updated: 1999-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-10 13:18:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived atDue South Archive. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDue South Archive collection profile.





	The Blues Sister

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

The Blues Sister

 

****

The Blues Sister

™  
Ashley Calvert, 1998

(Stand back, Ash I'm having another Idea...)

So first there was "A Joint Venture", and then came AJV's exciting continuation, "A Joint Venture II: Code 207", and... then what? Another one, and more thrilling than the first two, that's what. This is for everyone to enjoy. If you've ever read anything that E.J. Ramis or Claudia Reid were in; if you've ever been loyal to your best friend; if you've ever heard Jake and Elwood; if you've ever wanted to live in Due South... it's all there. To tell you the truth, I have no idea if Dewey really likes the Blues Brothers or not. As of right now, he does. All disclaimers are at the very end, because if I put them in here it might ruin it for you. And by the way, wow, Dewey sure shows up a lot in these stories, doesn't he? Oh well. I'm his biggest fan, so shoot me. J Thank you kindly's to Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi (a.k.a. the one and only *real* Blues Brothers), to Vivienne, for her great info, and to my boys Ben Schmidt and Andrew Sand, who unknowingly volunteered to be made into the nimwit detective characters. Most of all, though, my "sister, soul-mate, accomplice"... Ash, without whom my writing career would cease to exist. ("Pardon us. We've been drinking.")

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Introduction

The bartender took a white towel from beneath the bar and wiped beaded moisture drops from its surface. When he looked up again, a fifteen-year-old girl was looking back at him. She smiled amiably back at him at sat down on one of the swivel stools.

"Hi," she said. Daniel McCartney narrowed his eyes at her; he recognized that face. It was older now than the kid he remembered, but the same face nonetheless.

"E.J.?" he asked uncertainly. She grinned.

"I knew you'd still remember." Daniel leaned down and smiled at her.

"Wow, E.J... it's been a while," he said, a nostalgic expression forming on his face. "How long's it been?"

"Not since Jack's funeral, I guess," E.J. told him. Daniel laughed and slapped his hand against the bar.

"Well it's great to see you again, kid!" he said. "What can I get for you?"

E.J. set her jacket down on the stool beside her. Something suddenly occurred to the man, and he stood up straight.

"Wait..." he said, smirking. "You're not twenty-one."

"Ah, clever man," E.J. said. "I know. I'll have a Coke."

"Coming right up." Daniel turned around to fix the soda. "So what brings you back to Jack's Place, kid?" he asked conversationally, spilling some foam from the top of the glass.

"I was just in the neighborhood," she explained. "I haven't been back to this place since Jack still owned it, and I thought I'd come in to look around." Daniel set the Coke in front of the girl. "Looks like you've been doing a pretty good job keeping up the place, though," she added.

"Just so you know, I don't serve minors," he told her, "but I'm making an exception this time, since you're a friend. Don't tell." E.J. laughed and took a sip from the glass.

"So there was something else I kind of wanted to ask you about, Dan," she said in a more quiet voice.

"What's that?" Daniel asked, propping his elbow against the bar.

"Well, I've been running low on cash lately..." she started. He raised an eyebrow. "I thought maybe you could use an extra hand around here?"

Dan looked up into her face suspiciously. "E.J.," he said, "What would your mother think if she knew you were working in a pool hall?" He made a sweeping gesture in the air, motioning toward the rows of pool tables stationed behind her.

"Are you kidding? All the folks around me have been bugging me to get a job for the past two years. They'd be thrilled to not have me around so much." Dan shook his head, chuckling.

"We serve liquor here, Eej. I'm not really supposed to hire minors."

She gave him a pleading look. "What about when I was a kid?" she protested. "Jack used to let me do all kinds of stuff here, remember?"

"Jack owned it, of course he'd let his own niece work around here," he told her. There was a hint of hesitation in his voice; he was actually short on hands, and he had known E.J. since she was born. She was a pretty good kid, he wouldn't mind having her around.

"Aw, Dan..." she said, giving him a sweet smile. "How about off the record? No papers, just keep me around for the little stuff. Minimum wage, nothing special."

"What do you want this job for, again?"

"Like I said, I've been running kind of short on cash. I'd go somewhere else, but I really don't want to be stuck in a boring geek job. Besides, I already know this place."

"Well..." Daniel said waveringly. E.J. sucked at her straw and eyed him anticipatingly. "I suppose it would be okay, off the record. But no going anywhere near the bar."

"You got it, man. Anything you want."

"All right, I guess. You're hired." E.J.'s eyes widened with delight.

"This is great, man. Thanks!" The girl had finished her soda and pushed it away. "When do you want me to start?"

"After the weekend. Be here on Monday at 2. We open at 3," Daniel told her.

"You're the coolest, Dan. Thanks," E.J. said appreciatively.

"No problem, kid. Anything for Jack's niece," he said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Part One

Medic...

"I can't stand this anymore, Benny. I need to get out! If I don't get out from under this desk, it's gonna be the death of me." Ray Kowalski ran a hand through his over-spiked hair and let out a groan.

"Although I do feel sympathy for you and your loss of recreational time, Ray," Fraser began, "I can't say you have a right to complain. It's really no one else's fault but yours that you let your paperwork pile up." Constable Benton Fraser picked up a large stack of manila folders and moved them to the cabinet to file.

"Shut up, Benny. I don't need to hear that right now," he retorted bitterly. "I need an assistant or something." His eyes quickly scanned the room and landed on Claudia, Fraser's unsuspecting Goddaughter. "Hey Claud!" he called to her. She looked up.

"What?" she called back.

"You busy?!"

"Yeah!" she answered loudly.

"Can you come help me anyway?" Claudia let out a groan and ignored the desperate detective, returning to her own collection of paperwork.

"Oh, excuse me," Fraser said as he left Ray's work area with a manila envelope beneath his arm. "I'm not sure how this got here, this is expired evidence." Fraser left the station. Just a few minutes later, E.J. Ramis entered it.

"Ray!" E.J. cried. Ray looked up hopefully at the teenager.

"E.J.! I'm glad to see you, kid." E.J. raised an eyebrow in suspicion. Ray was fond of her, but he usually was extremely hesitant before verbally admitting it. She decided to ignore it.

"Listen, I have some great news!" she said. "You'll never guess."

"Ed McMahon picked you as a finalist in the Publisher's Clearing House Sweepstakes?" he asked her.

"Ah, no, not yet. But even better," she said with a triumphant grin. "I got..."

"A pony?"

"No. I got "

"A new haircut?"

"Will you shut *up*?! I got a job!"

E.J. briefly lost eye contact with him as he clutched his chest and fell over backwards out of his chair. She chose to ignore his deep gasps for breath and her focus remained on the wall behind him.

"Medic..." he said weakly. "Did you just say you got..."

"A job, Ray."

He fell back to the floor again. She rolled her eyes impatiently. "Yeah, ha ha. Are you finished?"

Ray stumbled to his feet and returned to his desk. "You really you're really employed? As in, working? For money?"

"Yeah, smartass. I'm doing real work," she retorted.

"Well congratulations, kid. You've finally joined the league of the employed."

"Thank you," she replied.

"So what exactly do you do, in this job for which you do work and receive money for it?" he asked, his words dripping with nonchalant sarcasm.

"I, ah... I work at my uncle's old business," she said. Very much the truth. Just then, Fraser walked back through the station doors.

"Hello, E.J.," he greeted her warmly. She returned his smile.

"Hey, Frase, you'll never guess what!" Ray told his partner. Fraser cocked his head with interest. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself as he stood up straight and sniffed the air. Ray looked at him wearily as the Mountie curiously examined the scent hanging in the atmosphere.

"What is it, boy?" Ray asked him. "Is Timmy in trouble?" Fraser did not answer him. Instead, he leaned forward over E.J.'s head and took a sniff of her hair. Her eyes widened and gave Fraser a very peculiar look.

"What?!" she exclaimed. "I washed it last night, you know!"

"No, it's not that," Fraser told her. "But perhaps you'd like to explain why you smell of tobacco and alcohol?" Ray leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, E.J., perhaps you would like to explain...?" E.J. winced.

"I was just getting to that part," she told them. Fraser crossed his arms over his chest in a paternal fashion. "See, I was just telling Ray that I got a job," she began. Cynicism subsiding momentarily, Fraser's jaw dropped. E.J. rolled her eyes again.

"Really?" Fraser asked. "As in, employment?"

"Yeah, employment. I started yesterday."

"Well congratulations," Fraser said.

"Thanks," she said. "Well, I guess I'll get going..." E.J. moved to leave, but was stopped as the Mountie's hand fell upon her shoulder.

"You were about to explain to us why you smell of substances you are far too young to legally be using," he said, redirecting her train of thought.

"Oh, right. Well, like I was getting to, I went back to Jack's Place and asked for a job. End of story, that's all."

"Eej, you said *business*... Exactly what kind of business was your uncle in?" Ray prompted.

"If I recall, Jack owned a..." Fraser stopped himself. "E.J.!"

"A... what?" Ray asked. His mind suddenly raced, and he came to a shocking realization. "Jeez, E.J.! Are you working in a strip club?!" E.J. almost choked.

"No!" she cried, laughing. "Jack's Place is a pool hall, okay? I'm washing the floors and fixing non-alcoholic cocktails. You have no reason to be afraid, ok?"

"Does Lesa know?" Fraser asked, concerned about whether or not E.J. had gained her foster-mother's approval first.

"Well, not exactly," E.J. said in a quiet voice.

"E.J.!" Fraser admonished.

"I'll tell her, ok? Seriously, it's no big deal. The guy who owns it now was my uncle's best friend, so I know him pretty well."

"We'll see about that," Fraser said skeptically.

"Fraser's absolutely right," Ray said with a shocking amount of agreeability. "We'll have to come over after we get off duty and inspect the place."

"Well, ah... actually, I was going to make sure I spoke with Lesa first, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to give the place a thorough inspection," Fraser said, caught off guard. E.J. caught a wink that Ray sent her. When Fraser looked away for a moment, she mouthed, "I'LL GET YOU FREE DRINK". He gave her a knowing nod, and Fraser glanced incredulously at them.

"Oh, what time is it?" E.J. asked them. Fraser checked his watch.

"Two Seventeen," he told her.

"Ah, then I gotta go. We *working* people have a living to earn," she said, pointing to the stack of papers on Ray's desk that was certainly not getting any smaller. Ray sighed and gave her a wave.

"Later, kid," he said. "See you tonight."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Part Two

Don't Smoke, It'll Kill You

"Absolutely not."

"Benn-nn!" Claudia pleaded with her Godfather.

"Don't Bennn me, Claudia. As long as I am alive and still your legal caretaker, I can't allow you to go somewhere like that."

"We can take care of the 'alive' part," Claudia muttered under her breath.

"I beg your pardon?" Fraser said, offended.

"Nothing," she grumbled. "It's not fair, Ben. If E.J. works there, it can't be that bad!"

"E.J. does a lot of things I definitely would not approve of you doing, Claudia."

"Then why do you let her do them?!" Claudia protested.

"Because she's not my Goddaughter!" Fraser told her flatly. "And you are. We won't be gone very long, Claudia. Don't worry."

"Yeah, whatever..." Claudia grumbled.

"I'm sorry?" Fraser prompted her. She sighed hesitatingly.

"Understood," she said.

"That's better. I'll see you soon."

"Fraser! We've been off duty for ten minutes, can we go now?!" Ray called to him. Fraser sighed and joined Ray and Dewey at the exit of the Precinct.

* * *

"Not a bad place..." Dewey remarked as the three entered the pool hall. It was fairly dim, lit with yellowish hanging lamps over the pool tables and each dining table. They placed their coats on one chair and sat down.

"Hey, guys!" E.J. said. She winked at Dewey. "Hey sugar," she said with a sweet smile. 

"Hey, babe," Dewey replied. They both laughed.

"Nice place you got here, kid," Ray told her.

"Thanks. You guys want anything?" E.J. asked them, glancing at the officers. Ray and Dewey were still soaking in the nice atmosphere of the place, Fraser was making a mental note of the dust on the edge of the table, near the wall.

"Can you get us free beer?" Dewey asked her hopefully.

"Yeah, but I'm not allowed to give it to you, 'cause I'm a minor," she said, chuckling at the irony. "Hold on, I'll get Max." E.J. disappeared to the far end of the room to the bar.

"This is definitely not a suitable place for someone of her age to be employed," Fraser said disapprovingly. The other two officers just shook their heads.

"Man, look at this place, Frase," Ray said, gesturing. "It's empty, except for us, and those four guys over there. Looks harmless."

"Well, it's harmless now, on a Tuesday night. But what about when she has to work late Saturday nights? That's not so harmless."

"Ah, you worry too much," Ray told him. "You guys wanna play?"

Dewey nodded and stood up. "Sure," he said. "You coming, Fraser?"

The Mountie sighed and stood up to join them. Ray fished out his wallet and handed a few bucks to the man working behind the counter to pay for their game. They each picked out their pool cues from a far wall and racked up the balls. E.J. returned, accompanied by an older kid holding a tray full of drinks.

"Guys, this is Max Palmer," she introduced them. "Max, Ray Vecchio, Tom Dewey, Ben Fraser." Max really didn't look older than 20, although he must have been to be working behind the bar. He gave them a blank half-smile, set the tray down, and left.

"Thanks, kid," Ray said appreciatively, picking up a drink.

"No problem," E.J. said. "You guys mind if I play?"

"Nah, as long as you're on break," said Ray. Fraser was still remaining quiet and disapproving.

"Cool," she said. She noticed that Fraser had gone into a bit of a Mountie sulk, and offered to let him break.

"Thank you kindly," he said, although his tone was not nearly as polite. He proceeded to begin their game.

"So how come it's so empty tonight?" Dewey asked. E.J. reached into her pocket and removed a pack of cigarettes and her lighter. She shook one of the smokes from the pack.

"I don't know," she said, holding the cigarette between her lips and flicking the lighter on. Dewey looked annoyed and took the cigarette from between her lips and broke it in half. She glared at him, but did not pause in her speech. "Dan tells me business has been pretty bad recently," she continued. She promptly took another cigarette from the pack and placed it back in her mouth. "He said he was thinking about hiring an act to come in here evenings, draw some more people in," she said, flicking the lighter back on.

Fraser had finished his turn and gestured for Ray to take his. Just as E.J. lit up the second cigarette, Dewey swiftly removed it from her mouth again and extinguished it in the ashtray built into the table. She shot him a look.

"Don't smoke," he said flatly. "It'll kill you."

"It's your turn," she told him, ignoring his brief sermon. She got out yet another cigarette and lit it. Dewey sighed, disappointed, and leaned over the table to take his turn. He gently poked the cue ball, sending the 5 ball into a side pocket.

"You know we're not supposed to let you do that," Ray told her. She rolled her eyes. It had been a long second day, she didn't especially need this right now.

"That's not all we're not supposed to let her do," Fraser said, almost to himself. The other three didn't even seem to hear him.

"Yeah, but that's why I like you guys so much," E.J. said with a genuine smile. It was her turn. She gave tapped the green ball into a corner pocket. She loved the color of that green ball. E.J. took another puff on the cigarette before Dewey once again removed it from her mouth and extinguished it. She groaned, defeated, and aimed for the 4 ball. She missed it, and it was Fraser's turn again.

Their game continued for a few more minutes in an uncomfortable silence. Fraser, with his vast knowledge of physics, spatial relationships, and algebraic equations, was now beating the other three by quite a few points. When it was E.J.'s turn again, she leaned down, centered herself with the cue ball, and shot one in. As she proceeded to make her way around the table to take her next turn, she started humming to herself. The officers listened with mild interest.

"Come on..." she said softly. "Baby don't you want to go..." Dewey recognized the song right away and grinned. Ray caught on after a moment.

"Back to that same old place... sweet home, Chicago," Dewey finished for her. The two laughed.

"How long you been in Chicago, Eej?" Dewey asked her. She glanced down at her feet, then looked back up quickly.

"Born and raised," she said proudly. "You?"

"Same." It was the Mountie's turn again.

E.J. backed up and picked up a cube of blue chalk from the table, proceeding to grind it against the tip of her stick. Just as silence was about to break over them again, she started up quietly, "Well one and one is two..." She was not actually singing, just repeating the lyrics out loud. Fraser raised his eyebrows, but did not interrupt.

"Six and two is eight," Dewey continued. They glanced at each other, and then they both sang, "Come on baby, now don't make me late!" All four of them were laughing to themselves.

"Uh, wow," Ray said, "You guys have, um, real talent." His eyes looked about, making sure no one was witnessing them singing, for fear of his own embarrassment.

At last, Fraser spoke up. "What is that?" he asked them. The Chicago natives shook their heads at him.

"Jake and Elwood, man. It's 'Sweet Home Chicago'," Dewey told him. Apparently his answer left the Mountie more confused than before.

"Aha," Fraser said, feigning understanding. E.J. just snickered.

"It's the Blues Brothers, Benny," Ray told him as Dewey bent down to take his turn. Still nothing but a blank look from the Canadian.

"Eight ball, left side pocket," Dewey told them, calling the shot. The eight ball dropped in the hole, ending the game.

"Well, nice shot," Fraser said politely.

Ray checked his watch. "Ah, I guess you have to get home to the little one, huh Benny?" Fraser glanced at his watch as well.

"Hey!" E.J. interjected, hurt. "The 'little one' is four months *older* than I am, so shut up."

"I suppose we should be going," Fraser said, although it was only nine-thirty. "Thank you for entertaining us, E.J.," he thanked his hostess cordially.

"Hey, any time, guys," she said. "Tell Huey he's welcome to come when he gets back in town," E.J. added.

"I'll come back tomorrow and hang out, if you can get more free stuff," Dewey promised. She laughed.

"Sure," she said. "Later, guys."

As they went to retrieve their coats, Fraser spoke to E.J. privately.

"E.J.," he started, "Please, make sure Lesa and Nick know about this job, all right?" E.J. sighed, then caved.

"Okay, Frase," she said reluctantly. "You got it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Part Three

We're On a Mission From God

"Hey Claud, is E.J. around?" Ray asked the girl, leaning against her desk. She sighed, annoyed.

"I don't know, Ray. Do you see her?" Ray took a look around the station.

"No."

"Then she's not here, is she!" Claudia snapped. Ray sighed.

"I need her."

"Why?" Claudia asked.

"Because you're too busy to help me with my paperwork, and she's the only other person who'll do it for free."

"Good luck with that, Ray. She's more likely to put your files in rainbow-colored order than alphabetical."

Ray stood up to leave. Silence broke over the station, and he turned to see what had caught everyone's attention. His jaw hung open.

"Oh my..." he said, bewildered. The pair approached Ray and Claudia. They were attired in black; the two of them had donned black suits, white shirts, black ties, porkpie hats, and dark black sunglasses. "What the hell...?"

Claudia looked up as well, and her eyes went wide. "Is that..." She went quiet, and then suddenly couldn't help herself from laughing.

"What are you two *doing* ?!" Claudia asked, giggling. Dewey and E.J. kept completely straight faces.

"We're on a mission from God," Dewey told her. He and E.J. folded their arms over their chests assertively, neither one breaking a smile.

"You're not serious," Claudia said, taking a closer look. "You used to be a police officer, did you not?"

"No ma'am," Dewey said. "We're musicians." Ray laughed out loud.

"I don't believe it. You two are the Blues Brothers?!" he cried.

"You got it, pal," E.J. said.

"But... there's..." Ray stammered, still laughing in bewilderment. "There was no Blues sister."

Dewey and E.J. glanced at each other.

"Uh, I know that," E.J. replied casually, reaching behind her and tucking her long braid into the back of her shirt.

"Dewey's eighteen years older than you are," Ray added. The two Blues Brothers shook their heads, annoyed. "And you guys are too close to the same height." They looked at each other again; Ray was right. Dewey was only about an inch and a half taller than she was.

"Shut up, man," Dewey told him. "We are the Blues Brothers."

"*Why* ?!" Claudia asked, standing up from her chair. Ray and Claudia were still baffled.

"My boss hired us to be the Blues Brothers in the evenings, Friday through Sunday." Claudia raised her eyebrows and swallowed harshly.

"Oh, this is too cute," Ray said mockingly. "I gotta get a camera." The brothers sighed, disgusted with that lack of seriousness they were receiving. "So, who's who, here?"

"Elwood Blues," said Dewey, raising his hand slightly.

"Joilet Jake Blues," E.J. said, tipping her hat .

"Oh, Lesa's gonna love this, Eej," Claudia said, still laughing. "How the hell did you two land a gig like that?"

"I was on break, and we were just shooting some pool, and we kinda started singing 'Born in Chicago'... Great song. But my boss overheard it, and started talking with us..." E.J. explained. "He really wants an act for the weekends. Long story short, here we are."

"He must be pretty desperate," Ray said. They ignored him.

"So when do we get to come and see you guys perform?" Claudia asked.

"We start Friday night at 8," E.J. said. "Not bad for my first job, huh Ray?"

Ray just shook his head and laughed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Part Four

Hack 'Em Off!

"This must not be the right place."

"This is the right place, these are the right directions. The sign says 'Jack's Place'."

"I don't like the looks of this," Lesa said, folding her arms maternally over her chest. "This is not a family-owned company. *This* ," she said, stressing 'this' as if it were an insect bite, "is a pool hall."

"Huh. Well, maybe it's one of those family recreation places," Nick pointed out. He smiled charmingly at his wife and held the door open for her. They entered the hall and took quick observations.

"Yeah, maybe," Lesa replied derisively. "This is a bar, Nick."

"Let's just trust her, okay?" Nick escorted her to a table near the small stage in the back. They spotted Fraser with a few other police officers and waved. Fraser courteously left Ray and his friends to greet E.J.'s foster parents.

"Hi, Benton," Lesa said, offering him a chair. He politely accepted it and sat down.

"Hello, Lesa, Nicholas," he addressed them cordially. "So E.J. told you about her new vocation?"

"Yes," Lesa answered slowly. "She told us she had gone to work for Jack's old company. Until now, I thought Jack's company was a restaurant franchise. Guess not."

Fraser shook his head a little. "I was afraid of that. I insisted she tell you, but I wasn't entirely sure how much she would tell you."

"This place seems pretty safe," Nick commented, noticing how few patrons were currently in the pool hall. A young couple, most likely in their early twenties, were sitting at a table near the wall facing the platform in front. Behind them, there were about three separate groups of people playing pool. Then there were the cops, who were chatting lightly a few tables down. Pretty calm, Nick noted to himself.

"So when are they on?" Lesa asked.

"I'm not sure. Soon, I think."

"What's her friend's name, again?" Nick asked.

"Thomas Dewey. He's with the 27th District, like Detective Vecchio," Fraser told them.

"It sounds like E.J.'s pretty fond of the guy," Nick said.

"I think so," Fraser replied. "They seem close."

It was then the a set of blue houselights came to life above the stage. A small band walked onto the platform and situated themselves in the back, the few guitarists and the bassist making quick tuning adjustments. As soon as their activity ceased, they became still. A moment later, a bright white spotlight popped on, its focus on center stage. E.J. and Dewey sauntered on and placed themselves in front of the microphone on the front of the stage. Fortunately, their dark glasses shielded most of the blinding white light raining on them. Their tiny but noteworthy audience cheered.

E.J. made a signal with her left hand, and the drummer and bassist started up with a soft rhythm. "We're glad to see so many of you lovely people here tonight," Dewey began, speaking into the microphone. The guitarists joined in with the band. "We would especially like to welcome all the representatives of Illinois law enforcement community for joining us here in the Palace Hotel Ball Room at this time..." Those in the audience that recognized the quote from the Blues Brothers movie laughed; Fraser remained attentive and polite. "We'd like to take this time to introduce ourselves; my name is Elwood Blues, and this is my brother Joilet Jake Blues."

The audience cheered again. Fraser noticed that Lesa's cynicism dropped, for she was grinning, watching the peculiar pair on stage.

"We are..." E.J. began.

"The Blues Brothers," Jake and Elwood said together. More clapping. The keyboardist and the small horn section of the band jumped in, and at last they heard the beginnings of a song.

"Later on we'll be taking some requests, but for right now we present you with one of our favorites, entitled 'Gimme Some Lovin'."

Dewey and E.J. were excellent on stage. Both of them had the air of a duo that was born to be in front of an audience. As they sang their song, Fraser inconspicuously left Lesa and Nick's table to re-join Ray and the few other officers.

"I don't believe it, Benny," Ray said, leaning to Fraser to be heard over the loud music.

"What's that, Ray? This bizarre yet creative setup?" Fraser replied, also leaning to Ray's ear to be heard.

"No!" Ray replied. "They're actually good!" Fraser nodded. Surprisingly, the Blues Brothers' parallels were quite talented, and indeed sounded very nice.

"How come Claud's not here?" Ray asked, voice straining again.

"I still don't think this is a appropriate environment for her," Fraser told him. Ray looked at him directly.

"That's cold, man," Ray said disapprovingly. Fraser opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted as the song finished and the entire pool hall applauded for the pair. By now, all but one of the groups who had been playing pool had taken seats in the stage area. In the back of the room, Dan was watching intently, his arms folded over his chest. He liked what he was seeing. And he was pretty sure, he thought to himself, Jack would be proud of his niece if he were alive to witness this.

Jake and Elwood did a few more numbers. During the middle of "Shake a Tail Feather", when both brothers turned around and did a comical... shuffle, both of E.J.'s foster parents were doubled over, nearly in tears laughing.

The song ended. The band was released to go get their beverages and make restroom stops. "You guys are a really great crowd," Elwood told their audience appreciatively. "When we get back, me and Jake are going to be taking some requests."

Many members of the audience got up to stretch their legs and buy more drinks. Daniel McCartney approached the brothers, standing beside the stage with his hands on his hips. Dewey and E.J. sat down on the side of the stage, their legs dangling loosely over the side.

"What'd you think, Dan?" E.J. asked him. He nodded approvingly.

"You guys are doing great," he told them. "They love you."

"I don't blame 'em," Dewey replied. A female customer approached Dan and interrupted them, so he left the brothers to speak with her.

"This is so cool," E.J. said. "I love being in front of a crowd."

"Yeah," Dewey agreed. "I just feel right in front of a mike." He paused. "I'm glad you ended up with this job, Eej. I like doing this."

E.J. held up a hand in the air. "Please," she stopped him. "Until the hat comes off, it's Jake." Dewey laughed.

"You got it, pal."

"Thanks."

A few minutes later, the band returned to the stage and Jake and Elwood re-positioned themselves back in front of their microphone. Dewey noticed, squinting through the blinding spotlight, that more people had entered the pool hall since they started. Was it possible that their act was attracting people? At any rate, he briefly introduced himself and his younger partner to the audience again.

"Now, does anyone have any requests for us?" Elwood asked them.

"'Sweet Home Chicago'!" Nick called from their table. E.J. rolled her eyes. A typical parent.

"You got it, pal," Elwood said, grinning. Jake counted in, and the song began. By the time the song was half-way through, the entire pool hall was clapping along with the band. The song came to an instrumental-only section, so E.J. and Dewey backed away from their microphones, taking deep breaths. They looked out into the audience, who appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely. They smiled, then shrugged their shoulders. Then, without warning, Elwood extended his hands to Jake, who took his brother into a light embrace, and the pair proceeded to dance back and forth across the stage. The song ended, and the audience cheered, laughing.

"Okay," Jake said, visibly beginning to tire. "Any more requests?"

A woman sitting next to her boyfriend near the side of the room spoke up. "Can you do the 'Theme From Rawhide'?"

"You bet we can," Elwood replied. He glanced behind him to check the band; they nodded their approval. Jake took her brother's elbow and pulled him closer.

"Ah... problem," she said, a hint of panic peeping through her voice.

"What?" he whispered back.

"I, um... I don't know all the words to that," she explained.

"How much do you know?" Elwood asked.

"Uh... rollin', rollin', rollin'," she told him.

"Oh boy," he said. "Just ad-lib. I'll sing lead. You'll be fine."

"Okay..." she said hesitantly. The song began, and Dewey's voice dropped to a very deep tone which made E.J. giggle under her breath.

"...Rawhide..." Elwood sang. "Rain and wind and weather, hell-bent for leather, wishing my gal was by my side..." He finished the line. E.J.'s eyes went wide.

"Move 'em on..." he prompted. 

"Head 'em up!" Jake shouted uncertainly.

"Head 'em out..."

"Cut 'em up!" Jake continued. Elwood winced.

"String 'em up..."

"Beat 'em down!"

"Rawhide..." Dewey sang, suddenly wishing he hadn't recommending ad-libbing.

"Push 'em out..." Elwood continued.

"Push 'em down!" Jake shouted some more.

"Rope 'em in..."

"Hack 'em off!"

"Cut 'em in!"

"Ride 'em in, Rawhide..." Dewey continued with the song. E.J. took a step backwards, a tad embarrassed. When she briefly cast a glance out into the audience, she saw that Fraser was trying to calm Ray down. Ray was doubled over in his chair, laughing hysterically. Oops. Her part was coming up again. Be cool, be cool, she repeated to herself.

"Move 'em on..."

"Slice 'em up!" Jake cried.

"Rope 'em up..."

"Make 'em bleed!"

"Make it stop..."

"Make 'em die!"

"Rawhide..." Elwood sang, glancing at his partner in crime. Ad-libbing was a baaad idea. E.J. was just barely succeeding in keeping a straight face.

"Cut 'em out..."

"Chop 'em up!"

"Tie 'em down..."

"Kick 'em hard!"

"Cut 'em out! Ride 'em in, Rawhide..." Both Blues Brothers stepped away from the microphone momentarily as the guitarist took a solo. "That's good, pal. Nice improv," Dewey told her sarcastically, smiling at her nonsense lyrics.

"I'm doing my best," E.J. said, giggling. They were up again.

"Move 'em on..."

"Drag 'em down!"

"Cut 'em out..."

"Make 'em cry!"

"Rope 'em up..."

"Knock 'em up!"

"Rawhide..." Dewey shut his eyes and took a breath as the audience exploded with laughter.

"Cut 'em out..."

"Pound 'em down!"

"Rope 'em in..."

"Kill 'em all!"

"Cut 'em out! Ride 'em in, Rawhide...." Dewey sang, bringing the song to a close. Both the brothers leaned into the microphone for the very last line and sang, "Raw-hide..." With that, their song ended and the audience burst into applause. They turned their around and kept their backs to the crowd, determined to hide their laughter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Part Five

The Bad Side of Sweet 'N Low

There was a line. Ray lifted his eyebrows in surprise. It was the third night the Blues Brothers' impersonators had been in business in Jack's Place, and already they had drawn a crowd to get through the doors. Dan beamed proudly as he watched the herd of people, all of them handing his sister Teresa money to enter his pool hall.

"Thanks, Reese," he said appreciatively, giving his thirty-two-year-old sibling a kiss on the cheek.

"It's okay, Dan," she replied, taking more money from the hand of another customer. "I do expect a ten percent cut, however."

"Right, Reese," he said, backing away to get back into the building. She sighed and added six more dollars to her cash box.

"Oh man..." E.J. breathed. "Can you believe this, Dewey?"

"Whoa," he agreed as he stole a look out from behind the employee lounge's door. "I have to admit, that seeing all those people out there for us feels pretty...."

"Pretty good!" E.J. laughed.

"My sentiments exactly," he agreed. E.J. opened the employee locker which she was storing her belongings in and removed her black porkpie hat. She placed it on her head, and proceeded to retrieve her sunglasses from beneath her backpack and placed them in her pocket temporarily.

"This has got to be the coolest job in the entire world," she informed him as she fumbled with her tie. Dewey got his own hat and glasses from his locker as well. "Can you give me a hand?" she asked him.

Dewey rolled his eyes. "You're fifteen, you should know how to tie a tie by now," he told her.

"I'm no cross-dresser, man," E.J. retorted as Dewey fixed the knotted tie. "Never even needed a tie until this week."

"You need more style, then. Like me." Dewey straightened her tie and gave her hat a tap. "You nervous?"

"Nah," she replied casually, guessing a Tums would clear those butterflies right up. "You?"

"Nope," he said. Dan poked his head through the door.

"Okay, fellas," he announced to them. "You're on."

* * *

"Jeez, that's the most business we've had in over three years. Combined," Max Palmer said. Reese McCartney ran a hand through her hair and nodded.

"Yeah. Oh, here they come," she said. A moment later, Dewey and E.J. burst through the employee lounge door, looking frazzled. Fraser and Ray followed behind.

"That was great, guys. Good show," Reese said. The pair nodded appreciatively.

"Thanks," Dewey said, sinking down onto the old couch furnishing the corner of the lounge and letting out a sigh. E.J. sat down beside him.

"Very good performance," Fraser praised the pair. "The audience adored it."

"Thank you, Ben," E.J. said, closing her eyes to relax for a moment. "I can't believe what a mob that was. How *cool* was *that* ."

Ray laughed as he joined Dan's sister on the other couch. "I can't believe they asked you to do 'Rawhide' again. You think they would have learned."  


"You think *she* would have learned the right words by now," Dewey said accusingly. E.J. just rolled her eyes.

"Help me get out of this damned tie," was her retort. Dewey leaned over and helped her remove the tie. She sighed, exhausted. "I'm so tired... I'm outta energy. I need to go home and sleep now."

"Me too," Dewey said. "But I'm too tired to move..." They laughed at themselves.

"Rayyy..." E.J. began pleadingly. Ray looked up from his gaze on Reese and looked over at the girl suspiciously. "Pack my stuff for me, please?"

"No way, kid. You do it," he said.

"Rayyy..." she whined again. "I got you free beer, and this is how you repay me?" He glanced around skeptically, and then agreed.

"Yeah, I guess," he said reluctantly. "Which one's yours?" he asked, pointing to the row of employee lockers.

"Five," she replied. She let out a groan as she stretched her aching muscles. E.J. tipped the end of her black hat over her face, covering her eyes, and relaxed in the comfort of the old sofa. The room became quiet, as the only noise made was Ray trying to force E.J.'s backpack out of her locker. He gave it a good tug, only to watch it fall from his grasp and land on the floor.

"What the hell?!" Ray blurted out. Dewey and E.J. were snapped from their trances. E.J. placed the hat back on her head so she could see, and her eyes went wide with fear. "Jesus E.J., is this yours?"

E.J. looked down, horrified, at the backpack that had come open. Her heart began to race, she felt her cheeks burn. Laying on the ground was her notebook, her jacket, and about a dozen small plastic bags full of white powder. She shot to her feet, flustered.

"No!" she quickly cried. She was panicking, her pulse was beating hard. "That's not mine!"

"E.J.," Fraser said gently, trying his best not to sound incriminating, "how do you explain these being in your backpack?" By now everyone in the room except Max and Reese was standing up.

"I don't know!" she cried, trying to fight back the tears that were beginning to sting her eyes. Dewey removed his hat and set it down, then crouched down next to the scattered bags.

"Eej..." he said in disbelief. "Tell me this is Sweet 'n Low, man."

"I don't know what the hell it is!" she said desperately, her face feeling hot and uncomfortable. "I don't know how it got there, or what it is!"

Ray looked disappointed. E.J. looked up into his eyes, silently begging him to believe her. He had to look away, frowning, then looked to Fraser for assistance. Fraser glanced at the two other officers. Dewey returned to his feet and stood beside the accused party. Ray rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"Ray..." Fraser said, his voice instructing him to do the unwanted task. Ray looked to the ground. "Tom?" Dewey also looked to the ground. E.J.'s voice was shaky when she spoke up again.

"I swear to God, man. I swear to God that isn't my stuff!" She shut her eyes to restrain her tears.

"I'm sorry, Eej," Ray said quietly. He reluctantly removed a pair of handcuffs from his holster and opened them.

"Ray... I swear, it's not..." E.J. choked on her own words as Ray gently pulled her arms behind her back and snapped the cuffs on.

"You have the right to remain silent," Ray said, affirming the harsh reality of the situation. She couldn't shield the horrible, disappointed looks she could feel coming from their faces. "Anything you say can be held against you in a court of law..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Part Six

Had To

Crowded in Lieutenant Welsh's office was Ray, Dewey, and Fraser, and Diefenbaker. The wolf had made himself comfortable upon Welsh's ragged couch. Outside his office, E.J.'s foster parents were waiting worriedly at Ray's desk.

"Sir " Ray began again.

"No way, Vecchio," Welsh repeated. "Furthermore, the three of you are to stay away from this case." The officers let out a groan in unison.

"Sir," Ray protested, "don't take us off. Or, at least, don't take me off. You see what happens to these kids. Guilty until proven innocent."

"I can't do that," Welsh told him harshly. "You know I can't let officers investigate that are emotionally attached. This would be different if it were a different kid, but you guys know this kid. I'm sticking Schmidt and Sand on this." Ray and Dewey let out disgusted sighs.

"S and S?!" Dewey said. "Those guys can't tell a criminal from a toothless old woman!"

"That's enough, Dewey," Welsh said firmly. "Stay away from this."

"But " 

"Out," Welsh ordered, pointing to the door. "Send the Scotts in here, I guess I have to talk to 'em."

Dewey fumed out of Welsh's office, Fraser and Dief following behind. Ray stopped before he left.

"Sir, just give me a chance. No emotional involvement at all, just let me try to clear the kid." Welsh let out a breath, and for a moment Ray thought he was ready to agree. Welsh paused.

"Sorry, Vecchio. I can't."

"Just let me try "

"No, Vecchio! Get out of here!" Ray slammed the door angrily behind him and stormed away.

"What's the matter, Dweet?" Claudia asked Dewey as he passed by her desk. Franny looked up with interest.

"It's your pal, Claud," Dewey told her flatly. Claudia suddenly looked very afraid.

"What?" she asked, heart sinking.

"She had a dozen bags of flake on her. We had to arrest her tonight," he said, sounding frustrated.

"She what?" Claudia asked, horrified. Dewey turned away. "Hold up! Where are you going?" He turned around.

"I'm just going to talk to her for a second. Welsh kicked us off the case." Dewey rubbed his neck sorely and moved away. Claudia sprang out of her chair and followed him to the interrogation room where E.J. was sitting. Dewey stopped Claudia before he went in.

"Give me a second, okay?" he asked her. She nodded and stayed outside the room. Dewey clicked open the door, slowly entered the room, and took a seat across from the young offender. E.J.'s forehead was glued to the tabletop, and her eyes remained fixed dismally on the floor beneath her.

"Hey," Dewey said quietly. E.J. didn't look up. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Slowly, E.J. lifted her head from the table and looked the detective directly in the face. Dewey saw right away her eyes were red and watery, sending a small pang of guilt through him. Still, they had done the right thing. He knew that.

"What?" E.J. said bitterly.

"You know why we did what we did, right?" he began. She glared at him tiredly. "We didn't have a choice, Eej."

"It wasn't mine, Dewey." E.J. stared him right in the eye coldly. "I want a drug test. I'm clean. The stuff wasn't mine."

"You'll get one," he replied. There was a suffering moment of silence between them. "This sure happened at a bad time, huh?" he said, almost kiddingly. "Dan's sure gonna be pissed at us." E.J. tried not to listen to him. Rather than replying, she leaned forward and gently placed her forehead back on the table.

"I'll go," Dewey said, standing up. He took a deep breath. "We had to, E.J." She ignored him as he left the room.

A moment later, her best friend walked into the room. Neither girl knew it, but both Ray and Claudia's Godfather had stopped outside the one-way mirror momentarily.

"E.J.!" Claudia exclaimed. "What happened to you?!" E.J. jerked her head up when she heard her friend's voice. It was a familiar, pleasant, non-threatening voice.

"Oh, Claud..." E.J. breathed. "God, am I glad to see you." She forced a smile.

"What the hell is going on, Eej?" Claudia took the same chair Dewey had taken moments before.

"They found coke in my backpack..." E.J. said weakly. "I I swear to God, I don't know how it got there." E.J. looked ready to cry again. Her best friend felt torn for a moment; she had no idea what the truth was, and honestly didn't know whether or not to believe her. Duty-bound as a friend, she decided to temporarily give E.J. the benefit of the doubt.

"Who arrested you?" Claudia asked in disbelief.

"Ray."

Claudia stared down her into her friend's face. E.J. had lost her natural air of toughness that she always tried to maintain, and was now ready to crumble into a helpless pile before Claudia.

"Just out of curiosity..." Claudia began, her voice dropping to a low whisper. "How come you didn't slip the cuffs? You know how to do that, don't you?"

"Are you crazy?" E.J. asked her accusingly. "Trust me, I'm not looking for any more trouble than I already have."

Claudia nodded her understanding. She took a long, deep breath and fixed eye contact on her friend when she spoke again. "You swear it's not yours?" she asked.

"I swear," E.J. replied despondently. "Claud Claud, please... you gotta help me. They kicked Fraser, Ray, and Dewey all off the case. There gonna have some other guys in here, they're gonna find a way to make me guilty, and it'll be the end of me."

"Relax, pal..." Claudia said soothingly. "It's not that bad. First of all, you're a juvey, which means the penalties aren't as harsh. Second, if you are clean, like you say, the only thing they can get you for is possession. And it's not like you have a record or anything, you're a first-time offender."

E.J. went dead silent as another nonchalant, slightly-anxious expression filled her eyes. Claudia noticed her look and tipped her head back in disbelief.

"Cripes, Eej. You *don't* have a record, do you?" E.J. wouldn't look at her friend and remained completely silent. "You *do* , don't you!" she cried, shocked. E.J.'s head returned to it's position on the table quickly and rather painfully.

"Yeah," she said weakly, just barely audible. Outside of the room, Ray was trying not to listen to them, but he couldn't help but overhear.

"What?" he cried. "I didn't know she had a record!" Now even Fraser's attention was caught.

"For what?!" Claudia exclaimed.

E.J. shut her eyes tightly. "When I was younger. When I was still living with my aunt... I was using..." Claudia covered her eyes with her hands and groaned.

"Why didn't you ever tell me that?"

"Because I was trying to forget!" E.J. screamed, once again pulling her head from the table. "It's not something I'm proud of, okay? It's embarrassing!"

"What were you using?" Claudia asked.

E.J. did not open her eyes at all to reply. "I was on a little bit of acid and a little bit of pot for awhile. And when I was thirteen I got hooked on crack."

Claudia's jaw dropped. Outside the room, so did Ray's.

"Jesus Christ!" Claudia cried. E.J. started to cry.

"I *stopped* , okay? Caroline helped me stop!" E.J. buried her eyes in her handcuffed hands. "If it hadn't been for her, I would have died," she said shakily. "I was depressed. She got me help. That's it. That's my story."

"Well..." Claudia said slowly. "You say you're not using anymore though, right?" E.J. looked up at her angrily.

"I didn't *say* I'm not using, I'm **not** using!"

"Okay," she said quietly. "If you say you're not, than I believe you." E.J. looked at her in surprise.

"You mean that?" she asked warily.

"Yeah, I mean it. I believe you." E.J. smiled and tried not to start crying again.

"Thanks. I need that."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Part Seven

Blood of the Mountie

"What do you mean, she's not coming back for awhile?!" Dan was in a frenzy. "Christ, Tom, did you see the mob out there last night? They weren't here for just the pool, man! They were here to see the show! What the hell am I supposed to tell them when they come back on Friday?! 'Sorry, folks, no show tonight. It appears that Elwood *arrested Jake* !?'"

"What do you want me to do, Dan?" Dewey asked, far more calm than the pub-owner. "She had 2,000 bucks worth of cocaine on her. We did what we had to do."

"Well, technically," Claudia spoke up from the side of the employee lounge, "Dewey wasn't the arresting officer, so, really, Elwood *didn't* arrest Jake..." Dan cast her a fierce look.

"Shut up!" he shot back. Dewey stood up straighter.

"Don't tell her to shut up," he warned. "She didn't do anything."

"Tom, Tom..." Dan began, taking a deep, tranquil breath. "I'm sorry I lost my temper. Please, understand where I'm coming from, here You and your druggie friend are the best thing that ever happened to Jack's Place. I... I need you."

"Dan, listen to me! E.J. is in *jail* . No performances. Do we understand each other?"

Daniel McCartney shut his eyes and brought his head to a leaning position on the wall behind him. He sighed. "Yeah..." He took another deep breath and looked back up at Dewey. "I'm sorry to lose you, Tom."

"Me too," Dewey replied. Dan slowly ambled out of the room. He stopped in front of the door and took a look at Claudia.

"Hey, kid..." he said to her. "You, uh, you don't sing, do you?"

"No!" Dewey cried. Dan shrugged his shoulders and exited.

"You ready to go?" Dewey asked Claudia, picking up his leather jacket and putting his arms back through its sleeves.

"Ah, no, not yet, Dweet," she replied. He glanced down at his watch.

"I gotta get back to work, though," he said.

"It's okay. I think I'm gonna hang around for awhile. I'll walk back when I'm done, don't worry about it." Dewey raised his eyebrows.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Go ahead, I'll be fine," she assured him.

"Okay," Dewey said hesitantly. "But, uh, don't tell the Mountie that I brought you here. I've seen him around people that mess with his Godkid. It's not pretty."

"I won't tell if you won't."

"Okay," Dewey agreed. "See you back at the station then." He opened the lounge door and left. Claudia rose to her feet and took a look around. The employee lounge looked comfortable and very lived-in, with two old couches against two separate walls, a coffee table between them, and a few armchairs scattered around. She moved to the far wall to inspect the lockers. She noted with a professional detective's eye that none of the lockers had locks on them. She glanced around to make sure she was alone, and opened locker number 5. Technically, she wasn't a cop, so she didn't really need a warrant, did she? Of course not. 

She opened the locker, and saw that it was lacking large elements. Hanging by a magnet on its door was a picture of David Duchovny, and beneath that was a small postcard with the Beatles' picture on it. Claudia shook her head and laughed. On the floor of the locker was a half-empty bottle of spring water, and beside that was Harold, E.J.'s virtual pet. Claudia picked it up, and was saddened to see that Harold had obviously suffocated inside the locker, for his electronic screen now showed a deceased frog's body, and was blinking the word 'goodbye'. She decided to break the news to E.J. when she was under a bit less stress. Continuing her search, she found an Mr. Goodbar wrapper and a half-empty pack of cigarettes. Beneath that was a gold ring. Claudia remembered from a while back when E.J. had told her of that ring. 'My dad's lucky ring', she had called it. Claudia pocketed the jewelry.

Aside from those useless items, Claudia's search yielded no other information. She shut the metal door of the locker and moved back across the room, this time to the employee bathroom. She saw no light coming from beneath the door, so she opened it slowly and flicked on the bright fluorescent light and brought the small area humming to life. She entered it cautiously, not exactly sure what she was searching for, but determined to find it nonetheless.

Although she didn't find any evidence at first sight inside the bathroom, Claudia had too much intelligent Mountie blood running through her veins to cease her inspection there. Even though she wasn't prepared to taste gross things she found on the floor like her Godfather would, she was more than ready to find any evidence that would exonerate her best friend. She checked beneath the sink; nothing there. Slightly grossed out, she glanced into the single toilet, just to be sure. Her search so far was producing very little evidence. Claudia peered in the wastebasket, and at last she came across something. She looked down and saw a small plastic bag. Wishing she had brought rubber gloves, she hesitantly reached into the wastebasket and removed the item.

Claudia held it up to the light and saw that there was a rip in the corner of the bag, running along it's seam from the side to the bottom. Inside was the remnants of some kind of white crust.

"Aha..." she said, almost with pride. "Now we're getting somewhere." She used two fingers to delicately place the evidence inside her backpack, and set the backpack in the sink. She got down into a crouching position on the floor, her eyes narrowing intently. Just in front of the toilet, there was a tiny layer of white powder, barely visible to the naked eye. She kneeled down in front of it, hoping it was the illegal substance she thought it was. When she got down on her hands and knees and brought her face even closer to the powder, she saw a very fine outline in the middle of the dust where there appeared to be nothing at all. If she was not mistaken, it was the outline of...

A foot. Claudia smiled to herself. If only her Goddaddy were there to see her playing the detective, he'd be proud. Not wanting to literally blow away her evidence, she stood back up slowly, and then retrieved a black pen from her backpack. She un-capped it, got back down on the floor, and placed her arm next to the footprint. She carefully drew two black lines on her own bare arm, measuring the exact width of the widest part of the print's toe. She got up, dusted herself off, and put the pen away.

She did not find any other evidence in the bathroom, but she had a feeling that if her suspicions proved correct, it might be all the evidence she would need.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Part Eight

Don't Do That, Benny

"Eej! I need to talk to you for a second," Claudia said. E.J. was enclosed in a holding cell temporarily.

"Where have you been?" E.J. asked wearily. "This has been the worst day of my life, man..."

"I was at Jack's Place," Claudia told her as she pulled her backpack to the opposite side of her shoulder. She opened one of it's compartments and removed a navy blue pen. "Gimme your foot."

"Huh?" E.J. asked her, caught off guard. "What do you want my foot for?"

"For evidence. I'm trying to help you, trust me. Now give me your foot." Confused, E.J. reluctantly picked up her foot and pushed it through the bars of the cell. "Hey, nice band-aid," she added, noticing the freshly placed gauze and bandage on the inside of E.J.'s left elbow. E.J. rolled her eyes.

"I'm losing my balance, hurry up," she said, gripping the bars of the cell door tightly. Claudia took E.J.'s black hiking boot in one hand and held her blue pen with the other. She removed the pen's cap with her teeth.

"This'll just take a second," she explained through a closed jaw. Claudia pressed her right arm against the sole of E.J.'s shoe and made ink markings on her arm on either side of the boot, around the widest part of the toe. After she completed her measurement, she released her grip on E.J.'s foot. "Thanks, that's all I needed," she said, placing the cap back on the pen and putting it back in her backpack.

"What the hell was that about?" E.J. asked, happy to have both feet back on the ground.

"I'll tell you later," Claudia said. "I gotta get going right now if I wanna validate this evidence. Oh, by the way, I brought you something from your locker I thought you could use." E.J.'s eyes lit up.

"Cigarettes?" she asked hopefully. Claudia glared at her, disgusted.

"No way. Like I'd voluntarily give you those."

"Oh," E.J. replied, slightly abashed. "Oh! Did you bring me Harold? I bet he must be starving by now!" Claudia lost eye contact. Now was not the time to tell her companion of the recent loss of her virtual frog.

"Ah, no," Claudia said slowly, reaching into her pocket. "Something for good luck." Claudia removed the gold ring and handed it to her. E.J. smiled wistfully.

"My dad's lucky ring," she said, her voice soaked with sentiment. "Thanks, Claud."

* * *

Ray tucked both elbows behind his head and made himself comfortable on his tattered brown couch. Across the room, Claudia and Fraser were seated in Ray's chairs.

"So what's up, Claud?" Ray asked her. Claudia rolled up the sleeves of her black sweater and held out her arms for them to examine. Ray barely moved, but Fraser took interest.

"I don't think it was E.J.'s coke," Claudia began. "Look." Fraser peered down at the two pairs of ink markings.

"What are these?" he asked. Ray reluctantly sat up on the couch, but still did not move to get a better look.

"Sixteen, and still doesn't know how to hold a pen properly. That's pitiful." Claudia ignored him.

"Okay, don't be mad," was the first thing she said that made Fraser suspicious. "But I did a little investigating on my own."

"You did?" Ray asked. "Where? What'd you find?"

"Jack's Place," she said, her eyes dropping away from Fraser's gaze.

"You went to the pool hall?!" he asked in disbelief. "After I asked you not to?"

"Well I had to, Ben!" Claudia told him. "You guys aren't allowed to investigate, remember? And those two knuckleheads Welsh has working on this sure wouldn't have found out what I did."

"So what did you find?" Ray repeated impatiently.

"Well, I found out that E.J. likes Mr. Goodbar, has a thing for that guy from the X-Files, and Harold died."

"Aw, the frog died?" Ray asked sympathetically. "She really loved that thing."

"But specifically, Claudia," Fraser prompted, "like what those markings on your arm are?"

"Oh, right. Well, there was nothing useful in her locker, but when I checked out the employee bathroom, I found something pretty big. There was a tiny bit of powder on the floor in front of the toilet. I don't know what it was for sure, but I'm almost positive it was coke."

"Really?" Ray asked, wondering if there was more to this story.

"That's not all, though. There was a footprint in the dust, so I took a measurement. Which is now indicated on my arm," Claudia said, extending her left arm for her Godfather to examine. Fraser took careful note of the black markings and nodded for her to continue.

"So? What else?" Ray encouraged.

"This is a measurement I took from E.J.'s boot. Biggest part of the toe," Claudia continued, extending her left arm for the Mountie to see. Fraser observed the two blue lines and nodded. "Look," she said, placing her arms together. "These aren't the same width at all."

"You're right," Fraser said, his voice singing quiet praise. Ray got up and leaned forward over Claudia to inspect the markings. As she had said, they weren't nearly the same size. The blue lines were much closer together than the black lines.

"Not bad, Claud," Ray said approvingly. "Is this all you got?"

"More or less," she replied. She reached into her backpack and removed the ripped plastic bag. "And this. I'm assuming this is what whoever was using to hold the coke in before it spilled on the floor." She handed it to Ray, and he looked over it carefully.

"Not bad at all," he said, nodding.

"So, I'm thinking, maybe if we can get forensics to check out that bag, and one of the bags you found in her backpack, I bet we can get her cleared. I mean, if her prints aren't on them, then the bag-owner's prints will be."

"Forensics?" Ray cried. "Claud, I don't know about that... I mean, they usually save the forensics team for murders, robberies, stuff like that... but this is just one kid in the system." Claudia set her jaw.

"That one kid..." she began slowly, "might happen to be innocent. Now I don't know any better than you do if she is or if she isn't, but the least we can do is try."

A still broke over the room as Ray settled back onto the couch and buried his cheek in his fist. "I guess..." he started, "I could try to get forensics. But I think I'd like to wait until after the drug test results come in, so we know what we're trying for. I'm not promising anything, understand?"

"I know," Claudia replied rationally. "So... now what?"

"Nothing, yet," Ray replied. He sighed and fell into a comfortable slouch.

"What about Dewey?" Claudia asked.

"I don't know. He took off this afternoon, we haven't seen him since."

Ray scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. "What're you thinking, Benny?" he asked, part of him instinctively afraid of the answer he would receive.

"Oh, I don't know," Fraser replied. Ray shook his head.

"Yes, yes you do know. I know that look. You're sitting there knowing something that we don't know, and you're gonna keep it in until the very last moment." Fraser raised his eyebrows. "That's it, isn't it! You're being there, knowing stuff, and you're just keeping it in. Admit it."

"Ray, when was the last time you had a full eight hours of sleep?"

That caught Ray off guard. He opened his mouth to speak again, but was too confused to finish his train of thought. He had to think clearly before he spoke again.

"Don't do that, Benny," Ray said.

"Do what, Ray?"

"That thing, that thing you're doing right now. Where I stumble across something really smart, and then you go and change the subject to keep me from finishing it." Claudia's eyes ran from officer to officer, bewildered.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Fraser replied innocently.

"Yes you do. Right this second, you're "

"Ray, when was the last time you fed the turtle?"

Ray was caught off guard again, his train of thought destroyed.

"Uh... this morning." He had completely forgotten what he was rambling on about previously. Claudia held in a snicker and rubbed her eyes.

"So..." she began. "What are you thinking, Ray?"

Ray looked at the pair suspiciously. He really needed some sleep, he was losing the ability to think clearly...

"I don't know what to think anymore, Claud," he replied. "I wanna believe her, you know? I mean, she's a friend, and she's a good kid. But I just don't know."

"Exactly..." Claudia said. "Let me think for a second."

"What are you thinking, Claudia?" Fraser asked his Goddaughter. She kneaded the skin around her eyebrows and stayed quiet for a moment.

"Please, don't tell this to anyone..." Claudia started. "But... I just don't know whether to believe her or not." The three of them simultaneously leaned back in their individual furniture, thoughtful. "Did you guys know she has a record?"

Fraser and Ray exchanged glances. "Ah, that came up once or twice," Ray admitted.

"Yeah," Claudia said. "But she swears she doesn't use anymore. But there are the other things."

"Such as?" Fraser prompted.

"Well, we know she's had a toke recently, you know," she pointed out. "You know, the night..." She didn't need to finish her sentence. The night when E.J. had attempted to end her life several months before still stayed glued in their minds as a harsh, bitter memory none of them cared to keep.

"Yeah, there is that," Ray said hesitantly. "And there's the way she acts around us."

"What do you mean?" Fraser asked his partner.

"You know, like how she smokes around us even when we tell her not to? She acts like it's okay, because we'll let her get away with it, even though we're cops."

"I suppose that's true," Fraser said. "That's very insightful of you, Ray."

"But there are the other things," Ray continued.

"Like?" asked Claudia.

"Like, last night we found the drugs in her bag because she asked me to go into her locker and get her backpack for her. Now, if you had 2 grand worth of coke in your bag, would you ask a cop to go in and get it for you?"

"And, when I was looking around today, I noticed that there are no locks on the employee lockers at Jack's Place. Which means anyone could've gotten in to her locker if they wanted to," Claudia pointed out.

"But then again, she did admit in the first place she took her job because she needed money. However, she never mentioned what she needed the money for," Fraser added.

"Ah, I don't know what to think," Claudia said wearily.

"Me neither," Ray replied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Part Nine

Jack

She thought for sure that if she heard herself say 'It wasn't mine' one more time, she would surely lose her lunch. E.J. was desperate. Every part of her seemed to hurt. She had only been arrested the night before, and already she was losing her mind. Her foster parents, the wonderful people that had so kindly taken her into their home, were disgraced. As she leaned back in her hard chair, she realized that this would end up as one of the many do-as-I-say, not-as-I-did stories she would someday tell her own children.

Detective Sand had locked her in a holding cell, just temporarily. She had been assured she would not stay there. So far, she had been in there an hour and she was ready to scream. She let out a groan, laid down upon the small white cot against the wall of the cell, and placed her father's lucky ring on her middle finger. It was too big for her narrow finger, but she took comfort in the small amount of safety it momentarily provided her.

"I thought you'd be at least eighteen before I saw you in here, kid."

E.J. whipped around and sat up, panicked. She had been alone in her cell a minute ago, what had happened? Her mouth hung open.

"Jack!" she cried. The apparition of her favorite person in the world was now standing before her. She wanted to run to him and jump into his arms, but she knew that would be difficult, in his state of... death.

"So you've gotten yourself in some trouble, have you, Eej?" She scooted over on the cot and allowed her uncle's ghost to take a seat beside her.

"Man, have I..." she said quietly, making sure no one was around to witness her talking to the figure. "Ray have you met Ray?"

"No," Jack said.

"Great guy," E.J. continued. "Good friend. Well, was, anyway. Arrested me last night."

"So I've discovered," her uncle said. "You're in big trouble, then."

"Tell me about it," E.J. muttered. "You've come back to help, right? You're going to make everything all right, and then go back?" she asked hopefully. Jack smiled down at his niece and drew an arm over her shoulder, pulling her in close to him. It was the first time her uncle's ghost had ever touched her, and it made her feel slightly cold, but comforted. She smiled down at the ground. She had almost forgotten just how much she missed him.

"Sorry, pal. Not this time."

E.J. couldn't fight it back any longer and let a single tear drip out of her eye. "Jack..." she pleaded quietly. "What do I do? That stuff wasn't mine..." Her uncle was quiet. "You know that, don't you? You believe me, right?" She looked up into the specter's face. Jack leaned forward and gave his niece a kiss on the forehead.

"I believe you, Eej," he said.

"What do I do?" she begged him.

"Listen, E.J.," he began slowly. "I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you." She swallowed sharply.

"You are?"

"I am," he assured her. "You got a good head on your shoulders, kid. Never underestimate how powerful that mind of yours is." E.J. sniffed and rested her head against the side of his chest.

"That's what you came back to tell me?" she said, letting out a choked laugh. "I mean, it's very kind of you and all, but... I'm still in jail." Jack laughed.

"You got good friends out there. Those cops of yours. The other Blues Brother, I like him. Nice guy. The Mountie, he's got real soul. And the other cop, Ray, you said? He likes you pretty good."

"Yeah," she quietly agreed.

"But," E.J.'s uncle continued, "You got another good friend out there."

"Claudia?"

"Yeah, Claudia. That kid's got a good heart, E.J. She's been taking care of you from day one."

"Yeah, she has," E.J. agreed again. "So, um, how do I get out of this mess again? You were getting to that part?" Jack just laughed at his niece's impatience. That child was never good in the patience category.

"Trust in your friends, E.J. Just as long as you take care of them, they'll take care of you." She rubbed her eyes and looked her uncle in the face.

"Don't leave me..." she whispered, forlorn.

"I have to go, E.J.," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "You'll be fine, as long as you're loyal. Just trust who you love."

"Jack," she said pleadingly, letting another tear slip out of her eye. "Jack, please don't..."

The loud creaking of the heavy metal cell door being swung open snapped E.J. from her trance. Detective Schmidt walked in with an envelope under his arm.

"You're test results came in, kid. Come on, let's go."

E.J. wiped the tear away and stood up. When she turned around, her uncle was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Part Ten

Thirty It Is

"Hey, Paul. I need a favor, man."

"Surprise, surprise, Vecchio. What is it this time?" Paul Scholz looked up from his desk calendar and at Ray. Ray smiled at him.

"I need you to get some prints off of a couple bags for me." Ray tossed two bags holding his evidence onto Paul's desk. Paul examined the cocaine-encrusted bags and proceeded to drop them into a manila envelope, then labeled the envelope with a black permanent marker.

"What's this for?"

"Drug investigation," Ray replied. Short and to the point.

"I'm not sure how soon we can have it done. Everybody's been kind of bogged down lately, you know?"

"How soon you think you could have it back?"

Paul shrugged his shoulders. "Three days?" Ray groaned.

"Three days? Man, if we wait 'til Thursday, there'll be a whole legal mess to sort out."

"Sorry, Vecchio. You know how it is." Ray leaned forward and lowered his voice.

"How much would it take to get it back by tonight?"

Paul's eyebrows dropped. "You trying to bribe me, man?"

Ray gave him a wicked grin. "Nah. But I wouldn't mind giving you a reward for your good efforts."

"Fifty," Paul said.

"Twenty," Ray replied.

"Forty."

"Thirty."

"Thirty it is," Paul agreed. Ray sighed and pulled two bills from his wallet.

"Tonight, Paul."

"Sure, Vecchio."

* * *

Teresa McCartney picked at the clear tape that fastened the poster to the outside of the pool hall's door. The tape ripped beneath her fingers, tearing the sign advertising the Blues Brothers' act. Behind her, two women stopped for a moment.

"No more show, huh?" Reese turned around.

"Nope, sorry."

"Why's that?" the second woman asked.

"The brothers ran into some legal trouble. Very complicated. We don't know if they'll come back or not," Reese explained.

"Aw, that's a pity. I saw 'em on Saturday," the first lady said. "Cute, the two of 'em. And the kid, who kept screwin' up the words to 'Rawhide'. Pretty entertaining, if you ask me."

"I'll give them the good word," Reese replied, smiling. The women walked on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Part Eleven

He's a Dead Man

"Well?" Claudia took a seat in the chair beside Ray's desk and propped her elbow up on it, leaning forward anticipatingly. Fraser stood behind his Goddaughter, his hands clasped properly in front of him.

"Give me a second, okay?" Ray retrieved a pair of scissors from the drawer of his desk and proceeded to snip the manila envelope open. Claudia drummed her fingers impatiently on his desktop. Ray cut the package open and peered inside. He dumped its contents out in front of him, revealing the same two plastic bags he had delivered to forensics earlier in the day, and a few sheets of paper. He picked up the papers and examined them. He raised his eyebrows.

"Well?" Claudia repeated anxiously. Ray held a finger to his lips and shushed her. Claudia rolled her eyes. Fraser spoke up.

"Ray, did they belong to E.J.?" Ray ignored them and continued to read the papers. His eyes scanned down further.

"Ray!" Claudia cried, lunging for the papers. Ray jerked them away from her reach in one quick movement. "Are they hers or not?!" Ray sighed, set the papers down in front of him, and placed his hands in his lap. He leaned back in his chair and slowly eyed his partner, then Claudia, then Fraser again. Claudia made a fist and pounded it on the arm of her chair. "Ergh! Answer me!"

Ray took a long, deep breath and looked down at his feet. He let out a lengthy sigh, then returned his glance to Claudia.

"No," he said, a smile cracking on his lips.

"No?!" Claudia repeated in incredulously. She snatched the papers from him and eyed them herself. Claudia began to grin as she read forensics analysis. Fraser tried his best to maintain habitual politeness, but let himself go just once and read over her shoulder. The forms told them that neither bag had any prints at all belonging to Elizabeth Jane Ramis. Claudia flipped the first paper over and examined the second one. Her eyebrows furrowed when she read further.

"Who's Maxwell Palmer?" Fraser wondered out loud. Ray sat back upright in his chair.

"Beats me," he said. Claudia rubbed her temples, but was still smiling.

"Whoever it is, he's a dead man when E.J. finds him," Claudia said with a snicker. "This is really great. I knew she wouldn't... I mean...yeah." Fraser patted her on the shoulder. Ray stood up and cracked his knuckles.

"I'm gonna go find S & S so she can go home," Ray said, taking the papers from Claudia's fingers. "I'll be back." Ray left the area, and Fraser took his chair.

"Well, this was a shame," Fraser commented.

"What, that she got framed?"

"Yes," Fraser said. "It's a terrible thing to lose the trust of the ones you love." Claudia nodded her head in agreement.

"You're right... But it could have been worse, I suppose. I mean, it wasn't something she deserved to go through, but she could have been locked up for longer than just a night and a day. She managed to avoid a court hearing, too." Fraser narrowed his eyes at the air behind Claudia thoughtfully. "What?" she asked.

"Maxwell Palmer, the bag owner..." he began. "I've heard his name before."

Claudia sat up with interest. "Where?" she asked. Fraser studied the bookshelf near his Goddaughter, gaining full control of his train of thought.

"I remember, he works at Jack's Place!" Fraser recalled. "He brought us a tray of drinks when Ray, Dewey and I first went there. Quiet boy." Claudia scratched her chin thoughtfully.

"Why would he put drugs in her bag?" she wondered.

"Maybe he was deliberately trying to incriminate her," Fraser pointed out.

"But why?" Claudia pointed out.

"I don't know," Fraser replied. Moments later, Ray walked back through the doors of the squad room. Fraser immediately hopped up from his chair, allowing his partner to re-take his seat.

"So?" Claudia pressed.

"I've never seen her happier," Ray admitted. "You should've seen her. She started laughing hysterically, hugging me all over. It was horrible." Claudia laughed.

"Where's she now?"

"They're doing some paperwork with her folks right now. She said she'd be up later." Fraser nodded, pleased.

"So she's completely off the hook, huh?" Claudia asked.

"Yeah," Ray replied. "No traces of any drugs in her system, none of her prints on the bag. Now they just gotta get this Maxwell guy. Of course, there'll probably be a court hearing she'll have to go to, but at least she won't be the defendant."

"Good," Claudia replied.

"Ray, Maxwell Palmer is the boy who works at Jack's Place with E.J.," Fraser informed him. Ray absorbed that.

"But why "

"We have no idea," Claudia told him.

"Hmm."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Part Twelve

a.k.a. Wondergirl

"Oh! The light, it's... hurting my eyes..." E.J. blinked dramatically into the sun. Dewey rolled his eyes.

"Ha ha, kid. Welcome back to the land of the living." E.J. took a deep breath of fresh air, her lungs immediately informing her that the air was not so fresh, especially for Chicago. She placed her hands on her hips and smiled.

"Free, free as a bird..." she said softly. "Hey..." E.J. stopped herself. Huey and Dewey turned to see what she was staring at. "What's this?"

"What's what?" Huey asked.

"This!" she said, pointing to Huey's car. "Jeez, man. The day I get out of prison, my own brother picks me up in a police car." Dewey laughed.

"Yeah, yeah," he replied. "You need a ride?"

"That'd be great," E.J. said.

"Where to?" he asked. Huey held the back door of the car open for E.J. and she climbed in.

"Jack's," she said. "I want to get my job back."

The car pulled up beside the curb outside the pool hall. E.J. stepped out, thanked the officers, and entered the building. Teresa McCartney was standing on a chair, changing one of the lightbulbs in the ceiling. E.J. coughed. Reese turned around, and her face was swept with a look of surprise. She leapt down from the chair.

"E.J.!" she cried, extending her arms.

"Reese!" E.J. cried back, laughing. The woman embraced her in a friendly hug.

"I thought you were...?"

"I was," E.J. informed her. "It's a long story, I'll tell you later, okay?"

"I guess," Reese replied. "So you've come back to stay with us, then?"

"You bet I have!" E.J. exclaimed. "Listen, uh, where's Max?" Reese wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with her sleeve and sighed.

"He's in the lounge, why?"

"No reason. I'll be back," E.J. said, still smiling. "Is anybody else back there?"

"No," Reese replied slowly. "Good to have you back, kiddo," she said as E.J. sauntered to the opposite end of the hall.

"I was only gone two days, Reese," E.J. said, chuckling.

"And it was chaos," Reese said, flattering her. E.J. slowly opened the door to the employee lounge and crept inside. Max appeared to be asleep on the sofa against the wall, so E.J. entered very quietly. Outside, Reese returned to repairing the light. Her ears perked as she thought she heard the sound of a door clicking locked. 

Max was very violently awoken as someone grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him into a sitting position. His eyes flew open, panicked.

"E.J.!" he cried. She narrowed her eyes down into his, tightening the grip on his t-shirt. "What are you doing back?" E.J. pulled his face close to her own, pressing his forehead to hers.

"Surprised?" she said, her face not breaking into a positive emotion. The glare she gave him sent a chill down his spine. Max looked confused.

"You, ah, can let go of me," he said, gently trying to push her arm off. She shoved him back down and stood up.

"You rat-bastard, stand up so we can make this fair," she said threateningly, pushing up her sleeves. Max raised his eyebrows.

"Make *what* fair?!" he said, baffled.

E.J. kicked his leg with the toe of her boot. He winced.

"Stand up," she ordered again. Max reluctantly did so, still perplexed. E.J. was instantly grateful that Max was a small guy, about an inch shorter than she was. Thank goodness.

"So, did you hear what happened, Max?" E.J. asked his casually. Max straightened out his shirt and dropped his glance to the floor.

"Yeah, hear you got busted for some coke, right?" he asked. "That was too bad."

E.J. took a step closer to him and stared into his pupils. "It wasn't my coke, Max..." she said slowly. "But here's the *really interesting* part, Max! You know whose it *was* ?!"

Max continued staring at the floor. He shook his head no.

"Yours!!" she cried, shoving him backwards. "How could you do that to me?!" *Thank God he's not bigger than me.*

Outside the room, Reese heard the distinctive sounds of two people shouting. She glanced around and hopped down from her chair, her ears focusing on the sounds coming from behind the lounge door. She scratched the back of her neck, listening curiously. Reese slowly walked across the room to the door where the sounds were coming from. She stopped in her tracks as she heard a loud crash, and then more shouting. She hurried her pace and put her hand on the doorknob. It was locked.

"Hey!" she called, knocking on the door. The noises subsided momentarily.

"One second!" she heard E.J. call back to her. The violent sounds resumed, more crashes. Reese became worried and knocked harder on the door. The sounds drowned out her knockings. Reese rushed to the back room to find Dan.

"Hey bro, you better get out here," she said. Dan raised his eyebrows.

"What is it?" he asked, rising to his feet. Reese lead him out into the hall's main area.

"E.J.'s back," she told him. "Her and Max are in the lounge, and it sounds like they're wrecking the place!" Daniel followed his sister hurriedly to the door. Another loud crash, a slam, a few light pounds... then nothing. Dan also tested the doorknob, finding it was locked.

"Hey!" he shouted, knocking on the door. A moment later, they heard the door's lock click, and E.J. emerged from the room, looking scruffier than before. The two adults stared at her, wide-eyed.

"What was that about?" Reese queried. E.J. forced a smile, and the two older siblings both noticed she had a freshly-formed cut on the side of her cheek. Dan folded his arms over his chest.

"I was doing my part to keep the crime rate in Chicago down," she informed them. Reese raised her eyebrows. "That jerk put 2 g's worth of his coke on me and let me take the rap for it," she explained. She dabbed the spot of blood on her face with the end of her sleeve. "I'll tell you guys, crime just doesn't pay."

"So it was his?" Dan asked in disbelief.

"Yup," E.J. said. "Listen, I'm gonna make a phone call. After that, there'll be a couple cops here to get Max, so when they get here, could you kindly direct them to the lounge bathroom?"

Dan stood bewildered in front of the girl.

"You locked Max in the bathroom...?"

"Yeah," she replied nonchalantly. She grinned. "I'll be back at work tomorrow. Later, guys."

* * *

"You're insane."

"Ow! That stuff stings!" E.J. whimpered.

"You're completely insane," Claudia repeated, dabbing more alcohol on the cut on E.J.'s cheek. She winced.

"I'm not insane. You would've done the exact same thing if you were in my shoes." Claudia shook her head and wiped the cut dry with a tissue.

"Eej, the cops were going to make his life miserable anyway, I don't think I would've helped them out by beating the crap out of him." Claudia peeled the wrapper away from a tan band-aid and placed it on E.J.'s cheek.

"Thank you," E.J. said politely, standing up from her chair. "Listen, do you know if Welsh kept S & S on the case?" Claudia shook her head.

"Nah. After he found out you'd been cleared, he let the Duck Boys take it."

"Cool," E.J. said, grinning. "You want to go watch 'em interrogate Max?" Claudia grinned back.

"You know I do," she replied. The girls exited down the hallway to the interrogation rooms and settled themselves beside a one-way mirror. Inside they saw Max Palmer sitting in a chair beside a table, his hands handcuffed together. Huey was sitting in the chair across from him, and Dewey was pacing back and forth behind his partner.

"You don't look so good, kid," Huey said with a smirk. Max did not make eye contact with the detective. "What happened, huh?"

"I don't know," Max murmured.

"With who?" Huey prompted.

"No one," he admitted. Dewey, still pacing, let out a snicker.

"Oh really?" he asked. "Did E.J. do this to you?"

Max let out a small groan, not especially wanting to share the details of his tangle with the girl that happened earlier in the day. He hesitated before he spoke again.

"She kicked me in the head," he said scornfully. Claudia couldn't help but laugh.

"You learned that from Ray, didn't you," she said, shaking her head.

"Yep," E.J. replied with a proud grin.

Dewey produced a manila envelope and emptied it onto the table in front of Max's face, pouring about a dozen small bags of cocaine onto the table.

"These yours?" he queried. Max glared at him.

"No," he answered, straight-faced.

"Oh really," Huey replied. "Our friends in forensics say otherwise, pal. They got your prints all over 'em."

"Why'd you put them in the kid's bag?" Dewey demanded. Max didn't respond. Dewey walked slowly to the other side of the room until he was directly behind Max's chair. "You got a problem with your ears, man?"

"I don't know," Max replied blankly. Huey held in a laugh.

"Wow, he truly is really stupid," Claudia remarked. E.J. nodded in agreement.

"Say something," Huey ordered him, bored. Max looked away.

"We know they're yours, idiot!" Dewey said. He picked up the empty, ripped bag and held it in front Max's face. "You recognize this?"

"No," Max said.

"We found it in the trash can of Jack's Place," Dewey informed him. Outside the room, Claudia looked horrified.

"He did not! He *so* did not find that thing! I did!" she burst out. E.J. shushed her.

"Let me guess, okay?" Dewey said. "You were filling up the bag over the can, the bag tore, spilled coke all over the floor, and got on your shoe. Correct?"

"He's good..." E.J. said, impressed. Claudia made a face.

"I told them that," she said, disgusted.

"Maybe," Max said.

"That's very cute, kid," Huey said impatiently. "Drop the act. We know they're yours. We got footprints, fingerprints, DNA, and witnesses. 'Fess up."

"They really have all that stuff?" E.J. asked her friend, wowed.

"Nah," Claudia replied. "They're just trying to scare him. I've seen them do it before."

Max took a deep breath and clenched his eyes shut. "Yeah, well..."

"Well *what*, punk?!" Dewey yelled, kicking the leg of Max's chair. "Spit it out!"

"Maybe they're mine, I don't know," Max said in a quiet voice. Huey slammed his hand on the table near the bags.

"*Maybe*?!" he spurted out. "Look man, we *know* that they belong to you! Now tell us *why* you put 'em in the kid's bag!"

"Why do I always get called that?" E.J. murmured quietly. "I notice it's usually not 'E.J.', or 'Eej', or 'Wondergirl', or even 'Elizabeth Jane'..." she mumbled. "It's always 'the kid' or 'the girl' or 'that strange kid in the corner with that weird look on her face'. But usually 'the kid'." Claudia gave her a bewildered look, only half-paying attention. "They never call you that, and you're my age. Sure, with you, it's 'Claudia', or 'Claud', or 'the Mountie's kid', or 'Reid, we're outta coffee again'... usually 'Claud', though. Not me. Me, it's always 'the kid'. It's not as if-"

"Shut *up*!" Claudia cried. E.J. grumbled something incoherent to herself, then shut up. They continued watching.

"Maybe I put them in her bag, I don't know. I don't remember."

"What's the matter with you?!" Dewey cried. "You can drop this stupid act, okay? God, you've seen one too many dumb cop shows or something! We don't *care* that they're yours! Tell us *why*!"

"Well, I don't really know..." Max said slowly. Claudia tried to stifle a laugh.

"Man, you just can't be that stupid by accident," she giggled. "That man has something truly wrong with him."

"We have less subtle ways of helping you remember," Huey said, a hint of threat coming through in his voice.

"We can get the kid back here to kick you in the head a few more times, jog that rusty memory of yours," Dewey added.

"There, you see? They did it again." E.J. said, almost to herself.

"Huh?" Claudia asked, not totally listening.

"The kid. Always the kid!"

"Shut UP!" Claudia barked, flustered.

"Were you keeping them there for storage?" Huey asked him.

"No," Max replied.

"Were you just trying to get her in trouble?" Dewey asked.

"No," Max repeated.

"Are you hearing a word that we're saying?" Huey asked.

"I don't know," Max said.

Both girls burst out laughing. "You just can't find quality stupidity like that nowadays. That man is truly dense," Claudia remarked.

"Why... were... they... there?!" Dewey asked slowly, his impatience getting the better of him.

"I don't know," Max said in the same flat tone.

"Do you know how to say anything besides that?" Huey snarled.

"Maybe," Max replied. Both Huey and Dewey let out loud groans. Behind the mirror, Claudia and E.J. were laughing hysterically.

"Maybe," E.J. mimicked him in a low voice.

"I don't know," Claudia added, giggling.

"No," E.J. replied in Max's flat, dumb manner. Both of them could not contain their laughter.

"Okay..." Huey said, taking a deep breath. "I'm going to count to ten... and then I'm going to shoot you."

"Huh?" Max asked, jerking around. This sentence finally shook some solid expression into Max's dull face.

"One," Huey began.

"What's he talking about?" Max asked, panicked.

"Two," Huey continued.

"You'd be the third guy he's killed this month," Dewey said.

"Three."

"He's crazy, man," Dewey warned. "Almost as crazy as the kid."

"Four."

"Hey!" E.J. cried. "Which kid is that?!"

"Five."

"He's not going to shoot me."

"Six."

"He just might. You won't find out until he gets to ten now, will you?" Dewey said, patting Max on the shoulder.

"Seven."

"He's not gonna do it."

"Eight."

"Do it! Do it!" Claudia and E.J. chanted.

"Nine."

Max glanced nervously around the room, wide-eyed. Huey slowly brought his hand to his shoulder holster and stared the perpetrator square in the eye.

"Don't make him say it, man," Dewey warned. Huey donned a devilish grin.

"Okay okay okay!" Max cried, panicked. Huey brought his hand back down to his lap.

"That's better," Huey said, smiling charmingly at him. "Now spill it."

"Fine," Max mumbled. "Adam Thomas lives in the kid's building."

"Again! Again, with the kid!" Claudia shoved her arm.

"So?" Huey prompted.

"So I put the coke in a side compartment of her bag, and then she'd go back home, he'd find her in the elevator, and take it out."

Dewey shook his head. "That's crazy. She never saw?"

"Nah," Max said slyly. "She lives on the twenty-third floor. That's a pretty long elevator ride, plenty of time for him to get it out. So Thomas would take the stuff out and put in his cash, and then I'd take the cash out the next day when the kid came back into work."

E.J.'s mouth hung open in shock. "I feel so... violated..." she said weakly. Claudia gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"It happens to the best of us, Eej," she said comfortingly.

"No!" she cried. "How could I have been so... Oh, man!"

"Thomas, you say?" Dewey repeated.

"Yeah," Max said, swallowing hard. Dewey gave him a warm smile.

"That's a good thing, pal. Now we don't have to shoot you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Part Thirteen

Jaaaaa.....ke.... and Elllll....woooood....

"Sweet mother, no! No!!"

Dewey paused in the midst of putting on his black suit jacket and raised his eyebrows, worried. "What is it?" he asked. E.J. covered her eyes with her hands and dropped to her knees, making small sobbing noises.

"My frog!" she wailed. "Harold!... he's dead!" Dewey's face slowly transformed from concerned to baffled, and he tried his best to hold in his snicker.

"Your... frog?" he asked her. E.J. continued her weeping from the ground while Dewey covered his smile with his hand.

"Why Harold, why?" she gasped. Dewey put a hand beneath E.J.'s elbow and helped her to her feet.

"You okay?" he asked, muffling his laughter. She wiped away a tear and nodded.

"Yeah, I'll... I'll be okay..." she whispered, placing the dead toy back into her locker. E.J. pulled her lower lip back into its normal position and sighed. "Death sucks," she muttered. Dewey looked away, hiding his smirk.

Just as E.J. was fumbling with her tie, the door slowly creaked open. Claudia pushed her head through the entrance and looked around.

"Hey, Claud!" Dewey said, gesturing for her to enter. Claudia stepped inside and sat down on the lounge's couch, smiling.

"Hey, Dweet," Claudia greeted the detective.

"Hey, Claud," E.J. said, accidentally knotting her own finger into the tie. She tugged at it and it tightened. "Glad you came, man!"

"Wouldn't miss it," her friend replied. "I can't wait to hear you guys. Ray says that you two do 'Rawhide' pretty well." E.J. rolled her eyes, wrapping her thumb around the knotted tie and inadvertently tying own hand to herself.

"Who's out there?" Dewey asked her. E.J. struggled against the confines of the black tie.

"Everybody," Claudia informed them. Dewey and E.J. looked at each other and exchanged grins. E.J. pulled harder on the knot, accidentally securing its grip on her own hand. "Even Welsh came," Claudia continued. "So did Dief."

"Cool!" E.J. said as she gave the tie another tug, causing it to tighten around her neck. She was now unintentionally choking herself to death with a tie, which her own hand was knotted to. She drew in a deep gasp and continued her attempt to fix it.

"You'll like it," Dewey told Claudia. "We got a couple new dance routines and everything. It's very cool." E.J. gave the tie another hard tug, causing the tie to transform into a noose and gag her. She drew in another sharp gasp.

"Ooh," Claudia said, smiling. "Huey's out there too. He says he wanted to be in the band." E.J. attempted to say something, but could not find her voice beneath the death-trap of a tie. She let out a muffled whimper, feeling her lungs contracting painfully.

"I could've guessed that," Dewey said. E.J. mustered a small cough, finally grabbing their attention. Claudia and Dewey turned around to see E.J., bright pink, choking to death, her hand braided in an elaborate tangle of a tie. Claudia looked worried, but Dewey just laughed.

"Are you okay?" Claudia asked. E.J.'s eyes widened as she lost more oxygen still. Dewey placed his hands on the wildly knotted tie and managed to free E.J.'s hand.

"She's done this before," Dewey explained. "She can't tie her shoes, either." He untwisted the tie, undid its knots, and then released it's death grip on the girl's neck. E.J. keeled forward, sucking in air. She coughed several times, then ripped the tie from her collar and threw it to the ground.

"I hate ties," she grumbled, rubbing her neck sorely. Dewey shook his head.

"You need more style, then. Like me." He picked the tie up from the ground, pulled it around his own collar, and began to tie it on himself. He lifted it away from his head and placed it around E.J.'s neck, then tightened it for her. "Geek," he added, giving her shoulder a pat. She glared at him. Claudia watched from the couch, thoroughly entertained.

"Dork," E.J. retorted, retrieving her black porkpie hat from her locker. She placed it on her head, then tucked her long braid into the back of her shirt. "And I can so tie my shoes. I just choose to knot them instead. Much more permanent."

Dewey rolled his eyes. He opened his own locker and removed his hat and glasses as well.

"So you guys are going to keep your act for every single weekend from now on?" Claudia asked them.

"We're taking next week off, but, so far, yeah," Dewey replied. "I love this gig."

"Me too," E.J. agreed. Claudia sighed.

"I wish I had a paying job," she murmured. "One where you don't have to make coffee for other people, and file other people's reports, and work at ungodly hours of the morning."

"Well," E.J. began, "If it makes you feel any better, I *do* have to make coffee for people..." Claudia did not find this answer acceptable. "You can work here, you know. Dan says he's looking for a new hand, now that Max is no longer with us." She said this with a very small, sly grin.

"Oh, I'm sure Ben would love that," Claudia said sarcastically.

"It'd be great, Claud," E.J. told her. "You, me, mops... We could raise some serious hell." The door creaked open again, and all three turned around to see who was entering this time.

"Hey," Reese said as she came into view. They nodded their hello's. "You guys are on in five," she told the brothers. "You ready?"

"Yeah," Dewey said. "Oh! Jeez, I almost forgot!"

"What's that?"

"Our names, babe. We almost forgot our names!"

Claudia gave them a puzzled look, but E.J. breathed a sigh of relief. "Good thing you remembered!" she cried. "We can't go onstage without them," she said as Dewey opened her locker and retrieved a black marker. Claudia stared in confusion.

"Me first," E.J. said, and extended a closed fist to Dewey's face. Dewey took her hand in his own, and carefully drew the letters J-A-K-E on her four fingers.

"Jaaaaa.....ke...." Dewey said as he wrote the name down on E.J.'s fist. He traded off the marker, then extended his own clenched hands to E.J.'s face. E.J. did the same for him, drawing the letters E-L-W-O-O-D on six of his fingers.

"Elllll....woooood...." E.J. said as she drew each letter. She capped the marker, then grinned as she examined the freshly-dried ink name on her knuckles. Claudia raised her eyebrows, but did not say anything. "It's a Blues Brothers trademark," E.J. explained.

"So you guys ready now?" Reese asked.

"One second, Reese," Dewey said. "Before we make our entrance, I got a present for you, Eej." The girl's face lit up.

"Really?" she said excitedly. "What is it?"

"Close your eyes," he instructed her. She obediently did so, and instinctively held out her hands to receive the gift. She felt something lightweight placed into her palms. She raised her brow and opened her eyes, looking down. Dewey took a step back and grinned.

"What's this?" she asked, examining the folded sheet of paper.

"Read it," he told her. E.J. unfolded the white paper and eyed it with interest. Claudia and Reese exchanged puzzled glances.

"That's very funny," E.J. said sarcastically, reading the sheet.

"I thought you'd like it," Dewey replied.

"You're a very funny man, really," she said.

"Commit it to memory, understand?" he directed her. She shook her head and laughed.

"What is it?" Claudia asked curiously. E.J. rolled her eyes and tossed the sheet of paper into Claud's lap.

"Let's go," Dewey said. E.J. nodded, and the two exited the employee lounge.

Claudia looked down and examined the sheet. Etched into the paper with blue ink were the words to 'Rawhide'.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

****

Epilogue

The only remains of the night's previously-expansive crowd were a few police officers, the small number of employees, and the alleged Blues Brothers. Since the excitement had settled down, Ray, Fraser, Welsh, Huey, and Lesa and Nick, E.J.'s foster parents, gathered at one of the tables to sit and relax. All, with the exception of Fraser, were enjoying a refreshment of some kind.

"I still think it's crazy, all of this," Ray said, taking another drink of his beer.

"They've been very successful, Ray. Perhaps you should try to be more supportive," Fraser told him. Welsh chuckled.

"He's right. They're crazy."

"They're cool," Nick said.

"They're brave," Lesa contributed. "You'd have to pay me a lot more than what they're getting to go up on stage in front of all those people to sing and dance and wear those goofy costumes."

"That's not dancing," Ray interjected. "Whatever it is that they do, that's... hopping. That's hopping and vibrating. Not dancing."

"It's cool," Nick repeated, smiling.

"So..." Claudia said. "In your fifteen years of unemployment, did you ever think you're first job would be quite like this?" Claudia, E.J., Dewey, and Diefenbaker were lined up on the edge of the stage, their feet dangling over the side. E.J. removed her glasses and sighed.

"Nah. But I'm glad that, since I had to get a job, I got a job where I get to show off in front of a huge crowd, and wear these cool clothes."

"These cool, really hot clothes," Dewey added, fanning himself with his black hat. "But you're right. This is a great gig." Claudia noticed that both of the brothers were sweating, rather unattractively. E.J. removed her suit jacket and tossed it aside.

"Very cool gig," she repeated.

Dewey wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his jacket and looked over to the 'adult table'. "Hey Jack!" he called. Huey looked up. Dewey made a c'mere gesture, and Huey stood up and joined the three sitting on the edge of the stage.

"Hello, children," he said jokingly, taking a seat beside his partner. "What's up?"

"Me and E.J. have a preposition for you," Dewey told him. He winked at E.J.

"WITH!" E.J. cried, laughing. Dewey and E.J. hi-fived each other, chuckling. E.J. pretended to wipe a tear from her eye, shaking her head at their joke. Huey stared at them blankly.

"What?" he asked, puzzled.

"You know... preposition... 'with'... it's grammar, you know... funny..." Dewey explained uncertainly. E.J. nodded in agreement. Huey rolled his eyes.

"That's why you called me over here?" Huey asked them. Dewey shook his head.

"No. Actually, we have a *proposition* for you," he said, loosening his tie.

"Oh yeah?" Huey asked, intrigued. "What's that?"

"We want you to be in the band," E.J. told him. "You're good."

"I was hoping you'd ask," Huey admitted. "I don't have to wear that... outfit, though, do I?" He pointed to Dewey's suit and glasses. They shook their heads.

"Nope. You can wear whatever you want."

"Cool," Huey said, smiling.

"So you in?" Dewey asked.

"You bet, man," Huey told them. They grinned.

At their table, it sounded like the adults were wrapping up their conversation. Ray and Fraser stood up from their chairs and put on their jackets. Nick sauntered over to the stage and put his hands on his hips.

"It's getting late, kiddo," he told E.J. "You ready to go?"

"Uh, yeah," she said. "I just need my stuff out of my locker."

"Okay. Me and Lesa'll be in the car."

Ray and Fraser approached the four on the stage as Nick and Lesa left the building. "Gotta scoot, Claud. We got work in the morning, remember?" Ray said. Claudia groaned.

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered. "Let's get your stuff," she said to E.J. She nodded, and they wandered into the employee lounge. Ray took a seat on the couch impatiently, while Fraser remained standing by the door. Claudia sat down beside Ray and put E.J.'s hat on her head.

"Ray," E.J. said with a grin as she and Dewey both opened their lockers. "You wanna get my stuff out for me?" Ray looked up at her and shook his head.

"No way," he replied. "It makes bad things happen." E.J. removed her backpack and began pushing her belongings into it.

"Well," E.J. began, "I suppose there's a very important lesson to be learned from all of this."

"Oh yeah?" Claudia asked her, and proceeded to put on E.J.'s sunglasses as well. "What's that?" E.J. paused.

"Um... Well... I'm not sure. I mean, I know that there is one, I'm just not sure what it is."

"That's the trouble with us, you know," Ray said. "We're always doing stuff that we never learn anything from."

"Oh, Ray," Fraser disagreed. "I know that I personally almost always learn a valuable lesson from our excursions and whatnot."

"Oh yeah? What did we learn this time, Benny?" Ray asked. Fraser pondered for a moment.

"Well, for starters, we learned that trust is a key factor in a strong friendship." Ray and Claudia exchanged glances.

"I know," Dewey spoke up. They eyed him with interest. "We learned the words to 'Rawhide'." E.J. shook her head and shut her locker. "Well, one of us did, anyway," he corrected himself.

"What about, um, don't take things for granted," Claudia suggested.

"No, that's not it. There's got to be some suitable cliché that applies here," E.J. said thoughtfully. "How about... don't look a gift horse in the, um... eye?"

"It's mouth. And that doesn't apply either," Claudia told her.

"How about, things are easier said than..." E.J. started. "No, that's not it, either." She sat down on the other couch beside Huey and scratched her chin. Dewey leaned against the lockers, thoughtful.

"You can catch more fish with sugar than worms," Ray suggested. They shook their heads. 

"First of all, it's not fish, it's flies," E.J. corrected him. "And you don't catch flies with sugar. You catch them with flypaper." Fraser took a deep breath and sat down in a chair beside the two couches.

"Well, when I was growing up, I remember something my father would tell me when "

"Oh! I got it!" E.J. interrupted him. Fraser looked hurt, but did not say anything. "We learned that trust is important to make a strong friendship," she announced, and then smiled at Claudia. Claudia, Ray, and the Duck Boys all nodded their heads in agreement.

"Yeah, I think you're right," Ray said. "I'll go with the friendship thing."

"Me too," Claudia agreed. Fraser eyed them all quizzically.

"I might be mistaken, but I believe I already said that..." he told them.

"Yeah," Dewey added, apparently not hearing Fraser. "You just can't beat a strong friendship."

"Yup," Huey agreed. Fraser shook his head hopelessly.

"Okay, well, enough of our Hallmark moment, guys," Ray said, standing up. "Time to go home."

The six of them stood up to exit the lounge. E.J. picked her backpack up from the floor and slung it over her shoulder. Dewey waited for her by the door, his hand on the lightswitch.

"After you, Jake," he said, clicking the lights off. E.J. smiled graciously.

"Thank you, Elwood."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

August 4th, 1998

By Ashley Calvert (calvinball1968@usa.net)

\----------

Standard disclaimer for the story itself. 

"Gimme Some Lovin'" By Steve Winwood

"Sweet Home Chicago" By Woody Payne

"Shake a Tailfeather" By Otis Hayes, Andre Williams, & Verlie Rice

"Theme From Rawhide" By Dimitri Piomkin

The Blues Brothers are (c) Dan Aykroyd. Please, please, PLEASE do not sue me. I swear I didn't infringe on any copyrights, or break any laws on purpose. And, if for some horrible reason I did infringe on any copyrights or break any laws, I SWEAR it was an ACCIDENT and I would NEVER do it out of HATE. I borrowed Jake and Elwood because they are the coolest guys in the entire world, so technically I did it out of love, and I'm really, really sorry if I did something illegal.


End file.
